


gone crazy, back later

by Hazel75



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s01e20 Nothing Personal, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Ruined it, These two have ruined my mind, set during episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 12:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3249347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel75/pseuds/Hazel75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An imagining of what could have happened after Coulson paid the parking attendant during Nothing Personal.  Inspired by the secretive smirks on Skye and Coulson's faces by the pool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	gone crazy, back later

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts), [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts).



> Title from one of my favorite bumper stickers ever.

"Coulson, Coulson!"  He turns his head to look at Skye.

 

"You okay?" 

 

"Yeah, yeah," he says, staring straight ahead.  She thinks what a stupid question that was to ask but leans over to pat his suit, reassuring herself that Ward hadn't landed a shot.  Her hands are trembling, hell, her whole body is trembling with adrenaline, with shock, with fear. 

 

Even after she's assured herself that Coulson is, Coulson is fine, she can't stop her hands.  They keep moving over him of their own accord, grasping and releasing until he takes them in his own shaking hands, stilling their movements for a moment. 

 

"Skye, we're okay, we're okay," he says in a shaky voice, sounding as though he's trying to convince himself of the truth of his statement.  

 

His hair is wild from their 30,000 foot drop and looks very un-Coulsonlike, which disturbs her deeply for some reason.  Coulson needs to be Coulson, to look like Coulson. 

 

She pulls her hand from his and reaches out, leaning forward, to straighten his hair, to fix it, and apparently he has had a parallel thought because he leans towards her, his arm outstretched. 

 

In the split second that they're both leaning towards the other, she revises her plan, gripping the back of his neck with her hand and pulling him toward her before he has a chance to react.  Her nose bumps clumsily against his as she smashes her lips to his, pushing her tongue into his mouth when he gasps against her.  She slides her tongue against his, feeling him begin to push back.  He's returning her kiss now, which is good, because she doesn't want to stop this, this whatever it is.  She has a feeling if they stop, her brain will turn back on, and she doesn't want to examine what's happening right now ( _she's kissing Coulson and he's kissing her back_ ) or why; she wants to feel -- to feel his lips on hers, his tongue against hers, his hand pressed to her scalp fiercely.

 

Their teeth click as her mouth works over his.  As kisses go, there's no finesse, no technique -- if it were being judged, it wouldn't score an 8 or a 9 or a 10.  It's just hunger and adrenaline and _we're alive_ , and she couldn't care less that it's not pretty or nice -- she just wants to devour him, to take him into herself however she can in this moment.

 

She brings her hand under his jacket to his shirt, tugging at it until she can feel skin under her fingers.  His skin feels hot against her fingers, which finally stop trembling when they're pressed into the flesh of his ribs.  She reaches up to grip his bare shoulder under his clothes, pressing her upper body to his as she sucks first on his tongue and then on his lower lip, teasing it with her teeth as he breathes heavily.  One of his hands has gotten trapped between their bodies against her breast and is squeezing in time with their kisses. 

 

She hears someone hoot and yell _get a room, why don't you_ as she palms his groin.  She moves her mouth to his ear and whispers, "I don't want to stop, but I don't want to get arrested for public indecency."  She presses her tongue to the spot below his ear, hearing him gasp her name before continuing.  "Let's find some place more private.  _Please._ "  She punctuates her plea by taking his earlobe between her lips, biting softly and moving her hand against his erection. 

 

He pulls back, and she removes her arm from under his shirt. He looks past her, scanning the area, and his face has the look of a man with a mission and one very determinedly not thinking about consequences. 

 

He exits the car and walks around to stand with her, taking her hand in his.  As he combs his fingers through her hair, finally addressing its mussed state, she pushes herself against him, drawing him down for another frantic kiss. 

 

They half-jog as he drags her into the closest building, looking around for a secluded spot.  They find an unlocked janitor's closet and duck inside.  She pushes his jacket off of him and presses herself up against him again, reaching to pull his head down to hers. 

 

He puts his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back gently so that he can look her in the eye.  "Skye, wait, wait.  Are you sure?  Are you sure this is what you want?"

 

She takes her hands and brings them to the sides of his face, rubbing her thumbs against the skin by his mouth and holding his gaze with hers.

 

"Listen, Coulson, there are exactly two things I am absolutely sure of right now.  One, we are both alive and uninjured through some miracle, and, two, I want _you_ now." 

 

He still looks conflicted, and she can tell he's trying to think, to analyze what they're doing, and that will be the end of this, of that she's sure. 

 

She stands on her toes, and this time succeeds in bringing his head down towards her.  "Stop thinking, _please_ , stop,"  she says against his lips, and she can hear the plaintive note in her voice and hopes he won't make her beg.  " _Please_ , Coulson, now."

 

Still on her toes, she presses her lips to his, sliding her tongue carefully into his mouth.  After a moment he commits to the kiss, moving his hand under her hair to the back of her neck, holding her to him.  The kiss becomes increasingly urgent and sloppy, and she moves her hands under his shirt to run her nails over the bare skin of his sides, feeling him shudder under her hands.

 

She takes his free hand and moves it under her shirt to the button of her jeans.  Her own hands move to his belt, unbuckling it and unfastening his flies before pushing his clothes down and taking his cock in her hand.  It's hard and hot and velvety soft in her hand, and his hips buck when she runs her thumb over the tip. 

 

He moans.  "Fuck, Skye."  He's shoving at her pants, and she realizes she still has her stupid, stupid boots on.  She bends to take them off, yanking at them frustrated and then he's helping her shimmy out of her jeans and underwear. 

 

She returns her mouth to his as he runs his hands over her hips before slipping one between her legs.  She gasps against his mouth when he slides a finger into her, finding her wet and ready.  His cock rubs against her stomach as she moves against his fingers. 

 

She groans against his neck, mouthing the skin above his collar and moving her hands to his shoulders, trying to climb his body.  "More, Coulson, I need more." 

 

He gets the idea and turns them around so that her back is against the wall.  He lifts her up, hands on her ass, as she grips his shoulders with one hand, reaching down with the other to position him under her.  She holds his eyes as she lowers herself onto him slowly, her breath catching as he fills her. 

 

He takes a moment to gather himself, pressing her against the wall.  The thought goes through her mind that this is _Coulson_ , she has _Coulson_ inside of her and her stomach does a flip and a warm flush of pleasure moves through her.  She wraps her legs around him, the bare skin of her thighs against his waist, and he starts moving his hips, slowly at first.  She grips his shoulders, bearing down, her movements a counterpoint to his.  She hears herself muttering _you, you, oh god, you_ into his lips as she feels heat building inside her as he picks up the pace. 

 

She can feel his thrusts become almost erratic under her as she falls apart around him.  She manages to drag her eyes open in time to watch him as he comes inside her, groaning her name. 

 

He moves his mouth over her throat, sucking at her collarbone as she stills around him.  She runs her hands over his shoulders and arms, enjoying the sound of his wet kisses as he pants and tries to catch his breath.

 

Eventually, he lowers her to the ground and she leans against him, arms around each other in a loose embrace. 

 

He brings a hand to her face, touching her cheek gently.  She looks up and searches his face for signs of what he's thinking; she's afraid he'll disappear into his head, leaving her alone, but for now he's still with her. 

 

She thinks of what they just did, and a quiet chuckle escapes her before she can contain it. 

 

"Sorry, I'm just...happy, I guess.  Thank you." 

 

He smiles, warmth in his eyes, and covers her mouth with his, his lips moving gently and tenderly against hers.  This is the moment she'll return to later when they're dressed and sitting outside with the sun on their faces, waiting for Tripp to come get them, and again that night by the pool, and then in the days to come when she sees him withdrawing, putting up walls again, because in this moment, this precise moment, she feels so cherished, safe, even loved. 

 

   


End file.
